


Price of war

by nosebubble



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Crossdressing, Male Slash, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosebubble/pseuds/nosebubble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Post-Game. Five years after time compression, Squall meets a certain someone during a mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Price of war

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Price of War  
> Pairing: SeiferXSquall fic  
> Rating: R  
> Summary: Post-Game. Five years after time compression, Squall meets a certain someone during a mission.  
> Disclaimer: This is a labour of love, not profit. FF8 belongs to Square-enix, not me.  
> Warnings(Kinks): This is slash durrr! Crossdressing, sex and more sex, BAMFS all around! FF8 is so old I live in my own head canon.

Two hours past midnight and the crowd on narrow streets near the shopping district of Old Deling, Neo Galbadia was thinning out. People were slowly drifting out of the seedy pubs and nearby dance clubs in twos and threes and heading home or upstairs to the numerous dimly lit two storey boarding houses which offered cheap one night stays. The once uptown shops and restaurants were gone now, boarded shut and closed if not converted into unsavoury establishments in between old billboard advertisements and faded graffiti on the walls.

Squall pressed back against the darkened narrow doorway he was keeping watch as people walked past on the old cobblestone sidewalk, many talking and some laughing uproariously at some unknown joke. A small shriek rang out nearby and he tensed as a man stepped out of a pub next door, his arms around two girls. He watched expressionlessly as they staggered by, the guy getting in ample opportunity to grope the girls.

How fun.

He knew none of the people passing by noticed him, a solitary figure standing outside an abandoned building. 

Frequently, Squall would check his phone with a flick of his finger, reading and rereading Rinoa’s last text message blinking up at him. 

“I’ll be back late Squall, don’t wait up for me.”

It was still hot. Residue heat from the day came from the buildings and rose from the road. The air of the street was leaden with the muggy smell of stale sweat and sex and cigarette smoke and lingering perfume of one of the women who walked by. If not for certain reasons, given the time of the night, Squall would have preferred to be as far from this place as possible. 

Opposite, an old and dusty, maroon-coloured saloon car purred quietly down the street before stopping, as if waiting for someone.

Finally.

Squall straightened immediately and pushed off against the wall, acting like he had just come out of the building he was using to take cover. In a single step, he slipped into his persona. His swift predator-like grace transformed into a sultry, hip swaying walk; his typical leather boots replaced by soft kitten heels. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he crossed the road, walking casually as if he was merely taking care of an errand and ignoring errant wolf whistles and blatant invitations or envious looks from passer bys.

"Sorry, ladies. I'm not interested right now—“ A cool baritone voice came from the interior of the car. Two women standing outside the car looked up as Squall approached and scowled balefully at him before walking off, "You probably won't get much luck either, honey." 

They were well dressed, in trendy clothes and expensive looking makeup. But Squall had recognized what they wanted. 

Dressed like them, acting like one of them, he was supposed to be someone in same trade after all.

"Perhaps you could try me instead?" He said, sauntering forward till he was right in front of the driver’s tinted window. It was the only window that was partially wound down. However it was shrouded in shadows due to the angle of the yellow street lamp and try as he might, Squall couldn't see the driver clearly. 

"Look lady, you look really fine and all in that tight hot dress of yours, but like I just told the other two I’m waiting for something else.”

"Hmm..." Squall tilted his head and lowered his fine lashes demurely, thickened with mascara and liner, knowing the other person will see him acting coyly. Pause. Pout. Pretty please, with cherry tinted lip gloss on top. With one well manicured finger, he ran it down his throat, knowing it would draw attention to the fine skin and the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

"But I'm not a lady." He husked, widening his eyes in faux innocence at where he could see the driver’s form in the car. This was something he had done many times, practised well on unsuspecting others. There would be nothing in his body language to show that he was anything but the role he was playing. 

He was a cheap male whore, looking anxiously at his first customer for the night. 

There was a pause as he waited for a response, biting down on his lower lip for effect. He shifted, showing discomfort, but knowing that his target would now be looking at his body, thin black coat now falling open to reveal an even thinner strapped red dress with a tight bodice over his flat chest and a flared skirt so short that it barely covered his upper thighs. 

With one hand, he casually raised the hem of his dress slightly; inching it high just enough that his target would see where exactly the laced edged, black silk stockings he wore ended and exposed the sliver of uncovered skin between his thighs. He knew how it drove men wild; the sight of his easily bruised skin. It was like the way he found he could lower his lashes submissively or blush prettily. Or how to gasp breathily in throes of climax that could bring men to orgasm.

I can make your dreams come true tonight, baby.

Lessons in seduction, he had learnt it well. Take everything he had of his personality, his pride, and put in into a box for now. There is nothing he wouldn’t do in order to achieve his goal. Or accomplish his mission.

Squall shifted, cocking his hips at an angle. “Well?”

The driver coughed, before muttering out an apology with a nervous laugh. “I’m afraid I still can’t….” 

Squall’s eyes widened before he stopped himself. No one had ever refused him before. It had never been so easy. Normally he would end up having to go to extreme lengths just to avoid even the simplest blowjob. He didn’t know whether to feel offended or relieved.

However it didn’t matter, it meant Plan B. Turning to lean against the car, he trailed a hand against the cool paint. With his hand out of sight, he discreetly slid a small tracker, a disc a size of a nail, through the cracks under the engine hood. A quick tap made sure that it was securely fastened and would not be easily dislodged. Job done, he turned back to his target.

“Well….” He drawled, “If you don’t like women, and you don’t like effeminate men, perhaps you like it up the ass?” Maybe he was a little offended about it after all. He arched an eyebrow at the silhouette in the window as he remarked. “I do come fully equipped. Five thousand gil a night is my fee if you’d like me to fuck you.” 

When his target spluttered, Squall felt his smirk turn into a beaming smile. His inner self couldn’t care less; it was time to bow out and exit the stage. Squall waved away any forthcoming reply and turned to leave, “Whatever.”

He was surprised when a couple of steps later the car engine started and his target’s car backed up, following him in reverse up the road. 

“Wait.” 

Squall paused. His goal was complete; there was no need for seduction if he had already planted the tracer. He planned to trail his target till he had gathered enough information. Getting to know his target and his target to know him will be harder but he would have to try again under a different identity. Once he found out where his target lived, that would be a different story. However refusing right now may blow his cover and let his target become suspicious. He cocked his head inquiringly in the driver’s direction.

“Have you changed your mind?” he asked.

“I’ve never been propositioned like this before.”

“So you’re interested?”

Squall heard a short laugh. And then, “Would you mind lifting your skirt a little? Just a bit higher than last time?”

“What?” Squall stared incredulously at his target. This guy can’t be serious? He crossed his arms. “There’s no such thing as a free show.” 

“..Hey, but I thought that maybe I saw a beauty mark I recognised…”

“I have none.” Squall almost growled. It was not as if he was packing, hiding a concealed weapon in such an obvious place. The hair on the back of his neck was rising however.

“So I guess that means you have nothing for me then?”

Nothing…?

The click of the safety catch of a gun being thumbed off was faint, but every single cell in Squall’s body screamed in alarm.

Squall slowly turned around.

A tall shadow peeled off the nearby wall to stand in front of him.

Squall raised an eyebrow. It was a street thug, thickly built and heavyset with a crude tattoo and a menacing gait. He stepped forward, blocking Squall.

“And what have we got here?” He leered, showing a set of broken teeth. “A newbie? Never seen such a pretty one like you around on our turf before.” 

“Turf?” asked Squall. He shot a glance at the now silent car a few paces away from him.

“Don’t you know what this area is all under?” The man smirked. He stepped even further forward, pressing up close into Squall’s personal space till Squall could smell his disgusting bad breath. “You must be one lost little lamb.” 

When Squall stepped backwards automatically, a hand reached out to grip his arm in a painful hold. “You ain’t gonna go anywhere, missy. There’s no need for freelancing around here. I’m going to take you to the boss man, he’ll take good care of you.”

He pulled Squall into a faux embrace, the glint and coolness of metal pressed against his chest told him there was a sharp knife there. Squall was immediately assaulted by the disgusting stench of old sweat and body odour.

Then he raised his gun — Squall held his breath— and flashed it at the black tinted car window.

“If you know what is good for you….” The thug warned.

Damn.

Squall could only groan inwardly. This mission was rapidly becoming a ridiculous farce. 

Not only had he failed to attract his target, he was now getting the wrong kind of attention from unwanted thugs instead. 

“…Are you even listening to me?” 

A twitch of muscle holding the gun warned him. 

Squall had only a second to react, hand coming up and punching against that man’s forearm just as he squeezed the trigger, letting the recoil take care of his aim. 

He watched calculatingly with professional detachment even as he felt the bullet impact the car behind him, hit metal not glass, and shattered. That arm would be numb now; another jab would cause the gun to drop from nerveless fingers. He would twist out of the vise-like grip with a sharp turn of his body and use the same momentum to spin and deliver a sharp roundhouse kick in the stomach with his high heel that would stagger the gunman a few steps backwards, breath whooshing out of his body. And a clatter on the sidewalk will tell him that the cheap knife just got lost on the ground, bloodied as Squall disarmed him with a practiced hand. Just as his other fist which would knock his attacker unconscious in the next expert blow. 

Over his assailant’s cursing, Squall took a deep breath and pushed against that chest like it was as hard as he could and screamed like a girl.

This would perhaps give his target time to drive off, tires squealing, and get away while the gunman was distracted. And give Squall enough space to get rid of this guy in private. And if his target got shot –

There goes one week’s worth of surveillance work down the drain.

And his new manicure. Now he really understood why women were so reluctant to do things that would possibly break a nail. He was definitely not going to touch that man’s greasy fat face with his fist. It was a pity he was un-junctioned, he reflected. Or he might give into the urge to see that man’s stupid face gape open at the sight of Bahamut.

A can of opened coke flew towards his assailant and neatly clipped him on the side of the head, liquid splashing down his face. The man jerked in shock, his grip on Squall’s waist loosening. 

What the—

Squall pushed himself out of the man’s grip. It was a knee-jerk reaction. He swung his fist for real this time, knocking the gun from the thug’s hand and heard it skitter away. His attacker dived for it almost desperately, an action that left so many openings it nearly made Squall’s upper lip curl. 

There was a roar of the car engine behind him, and suddenly the maroon car belonging to his target mounted the kerb in reverse, half sliding with a grinding noise. It stopped behind Squall, door flying open.

“Get in!” A voice roared over the sound of immediate gun shots popping against the side of the car. 

Oh.

Squall wasted no time, thoughts of fighting forgotten as he scrabbled ungainly on his heels and flung himself headfirst into and across the back seat with a bang. The side window shattered and Squall winced, bringing his arms up to shield his head and neck from fallen glass. His driver gunned the engine. Squall bumped against the side of the car door as the car lurched pass parked cars, scraping metal against metal. 

But he didn’t care about what was happening outside any more. 

In that transition between fight and flight, he had finally gotten a much needed glimpse of the person at the wheel. His mind was whirling as he stared from the back seat at the profile of his target and the sole occupant of this car. The last person in the entire world he expected to see.

Seifer Almasy was sitting at the driver’s wheel. 

His target was Seifer Almasy.

Squall felt his face flush with mortification. His target had been Seifer Almasy?

He had been putting on this act all along just to get Seifer? 

Seifer must have busted a gut laughing his ass off in the car the moment he saw Squall in a skirt. And to think he had actually propositioned him for sex?

He should have known that voice sounded familiar. No, he should have just let Seifer get shot at, preferably in the face. Squall resisted the urge to rub his forehead. A headache was starting to build.

Squall glared at his target. And waited expectantly for a heartbeat. 

Silence.

Seifer’s hair was longer, turning a crew cut into shaggy locks of gold swept sideways and down into a low ponytail tied at the nape of his neck. He still had his handsome looks; arrogant twist of mouth, with that gloriously tanned sun-kissed skin, his shoulders had broadened, filled up more if it was even possible. His arms were clad in the sleeves of a grey office shirt and large hands gripped the steering wheel steadily as they drove away, leaving the confusion on the street behind. He looked good. Thriving in his exile, even. It had been five years since he last saw Seifer. Squall had fully expected to never see him again, and especially under a circumstance such as this. He glanced into the rear view mirror and eyes Squall knew were impossibly green met his.

Seifer stared at him through the mirror for a while, before letting out an explosive breath. Squall looked back as impassively as he could. Seifer would not have missed much of his actions. He didn’t understand. Didn’t Seifer recognise him?

There was no spark of recognition in his eyes. Only coolness and perhaps concern for a stranger.

But there was a reason for that.

Squall broke eye contact, hurriedly fishing for the compact mirror in his purse. He still held it throughout the whole confrontation although he had lost a shoe. Squall quickly checked in the compact to see if his makeup was messed up. 

Squall’s hair, worn in a different hairstyle that was lengthened to his shoulders by a dark brown wig shades darker than his natural chocolate was messy but quickly corrected with a few strokes of his fingers. And his thick makeup was still picture perfect, although the liner was starting to smudge and he would look like a grungy racoon in a few hours time. His trademark scar, the opposite of Seifer’s still glaringly red one remained carefully covered in thinly applied concealer. Only highly intense scrutiny would reveal slightly raised skin or what looked like a blemish smoothed over.

The shape of his face and eyes couldn’t be changed. But with makeup, he could make his eyes look larger and use rouge to contour his cheekbones to make it look thinner and sharper like a woman’s or like the cross dressing transvestite role he was playing. His mouth was stained with glossy lipstick. The reflection in his mirror was completely different from the person that people knew Squall to look like. To someone he knew well, he would only bear a faint resemblance to Squall Leonhart, ex-commander of Balamb Garden.

In the shadows in the back seat, faintly lit by the passing street lights, it was highly possible that Seifer would not recognise him at all.

“So the first thing you do when you get into the car is check your makeup.” Seifer chuckled softly, breaking the silence they had fallen into. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Squall ducked his head, would Seifer recognize him by his voice?

He replied softly. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine to me.” Seifer shook his head. The car ran over a small bump in the road and more of the glass from the shattered window fell with a tinkle. Squall winced at the sound. “Do you need to go to hospital? Or a clinic?”

Squall snorted silently. Seifer Almasy would never speak to Squall Leonhart in such a gentle way. “I have a few scratches, but he never hit me.”

“That was really lucky then. We aren’t being pursued, if you want to know.” offered Seifer, with a wave of his hand.

The Galbadian Military police will be there soon, he supposed. If his attacker hadn’t wised up and got away, he would be arrested and put in state penitentiary.

After the Sorceress war and the supposed assassination of President Deling by Balamb Seed forces, there was an uprising in the government. Ironically the one that held the reins and regained control of the country was Rinoa’s father, General Caraway. Rinoa was a real princess now. Although free trade agreements reigned and political newspapers largely published news of peace talks and freedom of the citizens, to the rest of the city, it was still considered to be under Military control. 

However, it seemed like the military was losing its iron fist if thugs and criminals were actually able to state their own laws on the streets.

Squall turned his head, appearing to look at the road outside but in actuality glancing at Seifer out of the corner of his eye. He still couldn’t believe that the target his contact had given him was Seifer Almasy. His mission had been to get close to his target and possibly gain much needed information from him as possible. 

All the information he had been given about his target was for naught. Squall sighed internally. Seifer Almasy had always been an unknown factor in any mission. He was chaos, uncontrollable, a wild card that always caused problems in any single thing Squall tried to do. Where Squall was methodical and precise, Seifer had always been ill disciplined and prone to base his actions depending on his gut feelings or mood swings. His behavior had always been careless and unprofessional, erratic and unreliable at best. And he always acted like a bully towards Squall. Back when they were still students in Garden.

He did not have any contact with Seifer after the Sorceress war. Squall couldn’t care less. Seifer had lost. That was it. The last he had seen of Seifer was one time after Garden had passed by Fisherman’s Horizon on its way back to Balamb. He had seen him sitting at the docks staring back at Garden as it passed by, an indecipherable look on his face. Quistis had said something about trying to search for Seifer and his posse, Fujin and Raijin – they were still students of Balamb Garden after all, but with no success. They seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth. Squall did not understand why Quistis even bothered. If they wanted to come back they already would have. Since they didn’t, well, there was no point in caring. 

There was no point in caring because people will always have to leave after all.

Seifer still remained his target. How was he ever going to accomplish his mission now? Perhaps he could beat Seifer up and force him to tell him whatever he wanted? A small voice in the back of his head said. But there was no way he would trust Seifer to tell him the truth. Seifer seemed like the kind of vicious person who would lie even if it meant his life. 

“You’ve been really quiet back there.” Seifer’s voice cut into his thoughts. Squall shook his head, involuntarily turning to meet Seifer’s eyes, before shifting quickly away. “Thought you might’ve zoned off into your own world for a minute.” 

Squall shrugged. 

In the front of the car, Seifer gave a one sided shrug, mirroring him. “I was afraid you might have gone into shock or something, after being shot at like that. You must be really quick at dodging. It was really dangerous for a while back there.” 

Squall shook his head again before deciding to reply. “That guy was an idiot. You don’t need to be good to avoid idiots.”

Seifer gave a bark of laughter at that, and Squall felt something curl in his chest.

The car sped rapidly and joined a freeway that crossed from Old Deling into New Galbadia City Suburbs. Squall watched as newer parts of the city sped rapidly by. There were still a few cars around and lights from the city lit the night in a soft glow. Ahead of them, towered higher buildings, business offices and costly housing, newly built for the nouveau rich that gained power after the fall of President Deling. The city had expanded rapidly over the past years. Cold wind blew in through the damaged window, creating a thundering noise that was distracting as well as annoying.

“Where are you taking me?” Squall asked curiously. It was obvious now that Seifer had a destination in mind as to where he is driving the car to. 

“Well…” drawled Seifer, as he scratched his head. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to stay there but I’m heading back to town. I figured that if you wanted a place to be dropped off at, it would be safer in town than back there.” He gestured with his thumb in the direction behind them. 

“….” said Squall. It was reasonable logic if Seifer assumed he was a normal citizen; most residents now lived in the new city rather than the old Deling outskirts and now slums. He raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Then.. where were you planning to drive to?” 

“I’m heading home.” Seifer flashed a quick grin backwards at Squall. “It was instinct I guess. When in danger, scurry back where it’s all safe and sound. I’m driving in the direction of the new city centre. If you want, I can drop you off in a place that is convenient?”

“Never mind...” Squall shook his head. His bag containing a change of clothes was in his own car in a locked car park under surveillance in one of the more reputable buildings back in the old city. He could collect it another time. 

He looked up, meeting Seifer’s eyes and holding for the first time. A small smile curved his mouth. “Take me to your house.”

Seifer let out a laugh, “Whoa, hey I don’t take strangers home like that.”

“I don’t think we’re strangers.” 

I know perfectly well who you are. And you know who I am too.

There was only one way to find out if Seifer was feigning ignorance of his identity. He had to make sure beyond a shadow of a doubt if Seifer truly did not recognize him.

Seifer raised both eyebrows at Squall. “What do you mean?”

Squall narrowed his eyes. He chose his words carefully. “I’m sure I met you somewhere before…”

“Nah.”

“What…?” asked Squall.

“Well I’m very certain I would remember a hottie like you.” Seifer shrugged, seemingly dismissing the notion. 

“But—“

Seifer scratched his head, “You do seem kind of familiar now that you mention it however..”

Squall tensed.

“You’re not out to kill me, are you?”

“No…” Squall frowned, stumped for a second. 

“Then we’re all right.” Seifer beamed trustingly at him. 

I changed my mind. He really is an idiot.

“….” Squall resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“When I do find out why, I’ll be certain to tell you.” Seifer said into the rearview mirror with that self assured smirk, and then faltered slightly at the sight of Squall’s glare.

“Right.” He said, clearing his throat slightly. “So how much do you cost for the night? I’m curious, ya know. You can’t tempt me and leave me hanging here.” 

Squall had to do some fast thinking. In his mind, an idea was forming. 

“Ten thousand gil… for a blow job.” 

“Then…”

“Fifteen thousand for an hour and twenty for the night.” Squall said quickly. He settled more firmly into his seat, reaching up to twirl a lock of chocolate brown hair between his fingers, enjoying himself now at Seifer’s visible shock.

“But that is almost as much as a high ranking Seed!” Seifer protested, making eyes at Squall in the mirror. 

“Really…?” Squall shrugged, now falling back into the mannerism he had perfected of his persona. He inspected his manicure in apparent boredom before shooting Seifer a look of minor disdain. “But everyone knows that I’m expensive, darling. If you couldn’t afford me, you shouldn’t have asked.” 

“If you do want to choose the cheapest option, I’ll let you have a discount if you want.” Squall said coolly, poker faced. “Four thousand gil. I’ll be the one having to do all the work topping.”

“No way!” Seifer protested immediately. 

Then a pause, “Only a thousand gil discount?”

Squall raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, I’ve been called a sex god in bed you know.” said Seifer after a while had passed, glancing into the rear view mirror every so often. He ran his hand through his hair, a move Squall knew used to charm the entire female population at Garden and secretly quite a few men. “Women flock to my bed all the time, I don’t need to pay for sex at all. I can have it whenever I want it, my cell phone’s full of their numbers.”

Squall waved a hand dismissively. “But I’m a professional.” 

“Oh?”

He leant forward, making sure to catch Seifer’s attention, lowering his voice breathily. “I take ropes and cuffs; you can tie me up however you want. I can do minor BDSM and role play, if you’re into that. You may also use toys, beads or dildos…” He trailed off, letting his eyelids fall half shut and made a suggestive gesture with his hand. 

Squall licked his lips slowly, enjoying the way Seifer’s eyes seemed now to be fixated on his mouth, his own jaw falling slack. In a perverse way, Squall knew he was beginning to savor the effect he was having on Seifer. He let out a low throaty moan, hearing an almost animalistic rumble from Seifer in answer.

“But you’ve never said you wanted me though.” He shook his head and crossed his arms. “In fact you refused me, after I asked you. Twice.”

Seifer seemed to snap back to reality at that, swallowing thickly and immediately falling into a bad coughing fit that was slowly turning his skin red from the back of his neck up to the tips of his ears.

“I do want.” Seifer said quickly. “No, wait, I mean –“

“Oh, so now you decide you do.” Squall cut in, archly. “Won’t you make up your mind?”

“Hey, you’re making it hard for me to do the knightly thing here and send you safely home for the night.” Seifer complained.

Chivalry from Seifer? Squall scoffed internally. “You’ve made it hard for me to find any work for tonight, you mean. I can’t go back there for the rest of the night.”

You picked me up didn’t you?

Seifer was silent for long while, his eyes were back to the road, fingers flicking his indicator lights and turning smoothly into a turn off that Squall knew would lead them to one of the cluster of newly built high rise housing that was extremely expensive. He knew for certain because for a time Rinoa had wanted to buy an apartment in the area, before she decided on somewhere else. It seemed Seifer had moved up in the world, Seed or no Seed.

“Alright.”

Squall cocked his head. He waited.

“Twenty thousand gil.”

Squall had to duck his head to hide the twist to his lips. ”Done.” 

It seems he succeeded after all.

There was really nothing much else he had to say after that so he curled up carefully in the back seat and settled for watching the redness on Seifer’s skin which lasted all the way till they pulled up and into the gates of a high rise apartment building that Seifer gestured and said it was where he lived.

  


“…and this is my humble abode.” said Seifer as he flicked on the lights to his flat when they finally made the trip of seventeen floors up the lift and a series of interconnecting stairs.

It was a large studio apartment, designed with an open style concept as to appear with more space. A single glance showed the living room with a cream-colored sofa set and flat screen TV, gaming console and wires placed on the floor haphazardly with the kitchenette at the opposite side. Squall’s attention was drawn towards the large unmade bed at the far end complete with a large, ceiling to floor length open window and balcony with billowing curtains showing a view of the city line. 

Magazines and clothes including underwear and probably weeks old socks that smelled were strewn all over the floor and there was clutter in the corners with the strangest things like a hockey stick and a set of ten matching Tonberry plushies on top of a cupboard next to a fierce looking motorcycle helmet with horns. Hyperion hung gleaming high on a rack on a wall underneath the hockey stick. It was clearly a very homely bachelors’ pad.

“Cosy,” Squall observed. A few steps in, his stocking foot immediately stepped on something sticky and creamy in between his toes. He scowled, looking down at his feet in disgust.

Seifer had immediately headed to the kitchen and busied himself with making a drink, heating water and setting out cups. “Can I get you anything?” He called from the counter looking at Squall. He gave a gleaming smile, “I make very good hot chocolate, with real marshmallows on top.” 

Squall glared. “Tea.” He said very firmly. “If you have it. And black, with no sugar.” 

The door had been left open and he closed it. It slammed shut with a soft bang. A series of picture frames on a row of shelves rattled as he did so. On closer inspection they showed a younger Seifer and his posse, Raijin and Fujin in various locations. One depicted the Trabian highlands and another, the red soil of Centra. There were also a series of photos of Seifer and various women, all smiling, dark haired brunettes with large eyes. Strangely, there was a photo of Balamb Garden with a wide banner proclaiming the Garden festival and a blurry Selphie, Zell and Quistis were putting up decorations in the distance.

There was really no clean place to sit so Squall took a deep breath, and leaned as casually as he could against the wall next to a mounted dart board that looked as if it had seen heavy use. There was a picture of General Caraway pasted on it in the centre and marks on the wall from many misses. He watched as Seifer continued what appeared to be a ritual of opening and closing the same kitchen cupboard doors and then in a different one and then back again. 

He was going to have sex with Seifer. 

Nerves flip flopped in his stomach from the subterfuge he was perpetuating.

His fingers twitched slightly. Adrenaline, which had left him after the close fight earlier, started up pumping into his veins again. His heartbeat, previously slow and steady, was starting to beat faster and he sought to calm it. Sweat beaded his palms and he wiped them off carefully. He recognized this feeling of trepidation; he was afraid. It was rare for him to lose his nerve like this. He was fearless in battle, used to the rush and the exultation in fighting. There had always been fear, but he had always had to come to terms with it in order to overcome it. 

Squall knew why he felt afraid. Flustered and half bemused at the level of ingenuousness he had displayed, to be able to manage to fool Seifer, once long ago thought of as his childhood rival. Yet afraid of repercussions of the deception he will have caused.

Not once had Seifer shown any sign of recognition of him. And call it foolish pride or some insane kind of idiocy, something in him was resisting the idea of actually revealing himself to Seifer. There was no turning back. Why did he even think to proposition Seifer in the first place? He had an out, just tell Seifer to drop him at some bus stop and that will be the last of this matter. Instead, he had continued in this role of seduction and he was going to have to carry it through. To actually let Seifer fuck him. He swallowed convulsively, throat dry. And if at any point Seifer had discovered his true identity, there was no telling what his reaction might be. 

“Are you okay?” said Seifer as he finally emerged from his kitchen, balancing two steaming mugs with one hand, terry washcloth in another. 

“Here, I found some tea in back of one of my cupboards.” He thrust one cup into Squall’s hands. There were two pieces of matching sofas in the living room, one was a large single and the other was a double that faced the TV. When Squall took the cup from his hands, Seifer then very quickly flopped himself down on the single sofa with the other. He had rather carelessly cleared nearby clutter into a pile on the floor with a broad sweep of his hand.

Seifer did indeed have tea. He had soothing herbal tea that was very calming. Squall relaxed as he sipped it slowly as he took the implicit invitation to sit and settled on the double sofa next to Seifer.

“Alright, you can take that shocked look of your face now,” laughed Seifer as he raised an index finger to press against one of his eyebrows and waggled it with his finger. “Do you like that? It’s a special blend I swear by. I save that tea for emergencies only.” 

Squall scowled automatically. He did not need special treatment of any sort and opened his mouth to say just so when Seifer waved a hand and cut him off. 

“Whoa whoa, no frown should mar that pretty face of yours now.” He laughed again when Squall glared daggers at him. 

Seifer smiled at him, a wolfish smile with the corners of his eyes wrinkling. And then Squall was seventeen again and Seifer nearly eighteen. Squall had been walking on the way to the Quad from the library after class when he saw Seifer, leaning against the wall, as if waiting for someone. That was the first time Squall had seen Seifer really smile, and not some twisted smirk he was used to seeing. And it made his chest truly ache, because Seifer was looking at the long haired, pigtailed brunette that was walking behind Squall.

“There you go again, off into your own world.” Seifer’s voice cut into his thoughts. He still had that smile on his face, “What wouldn’t I give to know what goes on inside your head?”

“You really don’t want to know.” Squall turned his head away. Squall wasn’t seventeen any longer.

“You looked like you were in deep, serious thought.” He winked. “Although you look pretty cute that way.”

Squall blinked, not quite getting what Seifer meant, before it dawned on him: the wink, and slow glances and solicitous gestures. Squall growled and slammed the mug down on a side table. He stood, “If you brought me back here just to flirt with me, -”

“Hey, I don’t even know your name yet. I can’t sleep with anyone who I’m not on first name basis with.” Seifer protested raising his hands in a placating gesture. 

“You don’t need to know my name,” said Squall, scornfully, “Why did you even agree to bring me back in the first place?”

“Er.” said Seifer, before drooping quite literally. His broad shoulders slumped, a hand going to the back of his neck and his eyes downcast. “I’ve never hired a hooker before…”

Squall crossed his arms and shifted his weight, he cocked his head. “So?”

Seifer shifted too and seemed to shrink back even further back into his seat. “Thought that you were really hot,” he mumbled. 

“But I am a guy, if you haven’t noticed.” said Squall impatiently, not quite able to comprehend his meaning. 

“I know,” said Seifer and promptly turned red again.

Squall felt his mouth drop open in a silent ‘o’. 

He eyed Seifer carefully; his reaction had been interesting to say the least. Having him admit his orientation or at least disclose some of his sexual preferences in a private setting had been surreal. Maybe the Seifer he knew would have snarled in derision and attacked him, either with words or with his gunblade before even being forced to admit such a statement. He didn’t even know now what Seifer’s reaction would be if they ever chanced to meet each other on the streets. 

But then again he didn’t really know Seifer, period.

“Look,” Seifer started to say, then paused seemingly in difficulty. “….uhhh…”

Squall raised an eyebrow. It was rare that Seifer would ever be at a loss for words. He paled. 

“You surely don’t mean that you want me to fuck you right?” Squall said hastily, “I wasn’t being serious earlier.”

“No, no!” Seifer shook his head violently. “It’s just that you, er… this is quite new to me.” 

“Oh.” Squall breathed a sigh of relief. 

For a moment he thought that Seifer was going to confess that he did recognise Squall after all. His cover wasn’t blown, his whore act hadn’t quite succeeded but his target had taken the bait nonetheless. He felt a surge of triumph. To be able to successfully seduce Seifer! 

He quirked his lips, “Just that this would be the third or fourth time I’m mentioning it now.”

“Right!” said Seifer and laughed. He licked his own lips and then continued, this time looking directly at Squall with a gaze that was distinctly heated. “No, um, I’d really like to do it. Have sex with you, that is.”

Very heated.

Squall’s heartbeat accelerated under that stare. His skin prickled and he felt hot and feverish. He inhaled sharply, the air between them suddenly felt thick with tension. He felt almost hypersensitive, senses heightened like in battle, suddenly aware of the million inconsequential things between them. 

It was filled with the way Seifer watched him now, every breath measured and slow. Things like the pieces of faded history of the past between them that wouldn’t go away like the sudden knot in his throat. He swallowed thickly and tried to convince himself that the responding interest his body felt was simply a conditioned reaction to Seifer’s presence. 

What would things between the two of them be like, without their rivalry?

He felt a pang in his chest. That was right, Seifer was only seeing a role he was playing and not really Squall himself. All the previous words he had ever said felt hollow in his ears now, and he felt empty as the previous feeling of victory slowly drained away. There was nothing between him and Seifer now. All Seifer was seeing was a whore he had aided and picked up from the streets that had managed to seduce him.

And all Squall felt, was the almost animalistic interest his body was taking in the proceedings. 

Take the chance.

Just like that, he was acting before he could think.

Moving to stand barefoot in front of Seifer, he swiftly took off his coat, letting it pool on the floor. 

“How much are you willing to pay for this then, Mr First Timer?” questioned Squall with a hooded look, fingers busily tugging the laced straps that held together the top layers of his dress. He gave a slow wiggle of his hips as he pulled it free and let it slide slowly down his thighs and join his coat. How strange that it was a move that felt as natural as breathing. 

All he had left on was a thin shift that barely covered his thighs and did little to hide his male chest, briefs and ragged stockings. He suppressed a shiver. To Squall it was enough to feel like he was already standing bare naked and exposed in front of Seifer, yet he was aroused and half hard already.

He gestured sharply with a hand, “So, which first? Sofa or bed?” 

It was Seifer’s turn to look surprised. Seifer who had been watching him strip openly now with a rapt hunger, mouth slightly parted. Squall knew because he had been looking right back at him. Seifer blinked wide eyes and faltered, “Uh, sofa I guess.”

Squall simply responded by sinking to his knees in front of Seifer. 

“A blow job first then?” he asked placing his hands, which felt slightly clammy to him, on Seifer’s thighs and spreading them. When he gazed up at Seifer through his dark lashes, ignoring the sharp intake of breath he heard, Squall felt a jolt of adrenaline, lust and something inexplicable shoot through him. He was close enough now he could catch Seifer’s male scent, warm like the sun and of gunmetal and fire and lost memories. 

Seifer was already responding, the bulge in his pants growing larger, easing himself back slowly in his seat. The thick muscles in his thighs quivered under each stroke of Squall’s hand as he inched it higher towards his zipper and pulled. His moan when Squall touched him, inaudible under his breath, rippled across every fibre of his body that was already taut, quivering tight with tension. 

Seifer’s erect cock felt thick and hot in his hands with the smooth, petal skin soft firmness that made Squall’s mouth water. He noted dispassionately that it was bigger, thicker than his own. Seifer was uncut, Squall played with the foreskin for a while running back and forth with his fingers knowing how much it would tease. When he finally pulled it back all the way, exposing the glans, thin wetness leaked from the tip. It felt only natural then, that he should place the tip of it into his mouth. Just for a little taste. 

The choked whimper and immediate buck of Seifer’s hips startled Squall for a second and he backed up, glaring. Seifer protested immediately with a low, rough growl, his gaze half lidded and now hazy with lust. 

Not enough.

Belts and other unimportant things like clothes were getting in the way now so Squall pulled them off till Seifer was sitting bare assed and a ripped shirt on his sofa and sliding downwards, hands clenched and scrabbling for purchase. Squall adjusted his own position, raising himself so he was now draped halfway in Seifer’s lap, his weight being a deterrent to more violent thrusting. His hands now switched to pumping Seifer’s cock slowly, rhythmically, from root to tip.

Seifer was extremely responsive and quite easily pleased. How strange to have Seifer like this, weak kneed, groaning and begging for each stroke. Squall felt himself anticipating each soft moan and quiver he made beneath him as he stroked his shaft. This was something he had previously imaged to be distasteful and disgusting. Something he would have avoided as much as he could, if it was possible. With each stroke, each response, groan or involuntary thrust in pleasure Seifer made, Squall knew that it will be now indelibly saved in his memory. 

Seifer had thrown his head back in pleasure now, grunting his approval with each grasping stroke he made. He reached beneath him, feeling Seifer’s balls tighten.

But he did promise a blow job. 

So Squall opened his mouth, sliding Seifer’s cock slowly in, swallowing from root to tip as he jerked and clenched and came uncontrollably with a loud groan.

Seifer tasted bittersweet and clean on his tongue. Squall gently licked Seifer clean, he had swallowed every last drop. 

Seifer straightened slowly, recovering from his post orgasm bliss. Briefly, Squall was wondering if he should offer to return Seifer his pants as he was currently curled, half kneeling on them as a cushion when he looked up, past Seifer’s quite ripped abs, and further up.

Seifer’s gaze was quite predatory.

Squall sat back on his heels as he stared back, not quite sure how to react. His shift rode up as he moved and it did not quite cover the budge of his own half hard cock. Squall carefully adjusted himself self consciously.

“Come here,” Seifer half growled, patting his lap.

Squall furrowed his brows in confusion. Surely Seifer did not have that quick a refraction period, a quick glance showed he was only half hard.

“Up,” 

Startled, Squall froze as Seifer bent down and quite literally lifted him up onto his lap with a grunt. Squall instinctively raised his hands to curl around Seifer’s shoulders for balance, thighs spread against Seifer’s own. His eyebrows rose as he stared, face now inches away from Seifer’s. Seifer must be either junctioned or working out often.

He had never been this close to Seifer before.

Seifer had a smug, half-grin on his face. For a moment, Squall was quite drawn to the intense look in his eyes. He couldn’t drag his own away from them even though he wanted to. Then Seifer’s eyes dipped to his mouth and he growled, lips already bent to meet Squall’s own.

Squall barely avoided it with a hiss and turned cheek. Seifer grabbed his chin, turning, forcing Squall to gasp out loudly, “No kissing!”

“What?” Seifer frowned at him. He tried again and Squall leant back, pressing one hand against Seifer’s collarbone. 

“Just no kissing, okay?” Squall asked, no, pleaded softly. He couldn’t meet Seifer’s eyes. If Seifer actually did find out he was kissing Squall, had kissed him, Squall wouldn’t know how he would react at all.

“Fine.” 

The pressure from Seifer’s arms ceased, and Squall lifted his head unsure of what Seifer intended to do.

“Just touching is okay, right?” said Seifer, his hand was sliding down Squall’s arm.

Confused and a little uncertain, Squall nodded his head. The gleam in Seifer’s eyes had not changed at all. With a start, he realized Seifer’s right hand had landed on his thighs and was now nudging him upwards from Seifer’s lap, raising him so he was kneeling again. Squall squirmed embarrassedly, Seifer still held him tight and his half hard cock was now pressing against Seifer’s hard stomach. The only thing separating them was the thin fabric of his clothes. 

“Shh,” hushed Seifer, running his hand soothingly down Squall’s back. “Just let me touch you now,” 

Squall gasped softly as Seifer ran his hands lightly up his spread thighs, fingers gently reaching the soft briefs he wore, rubbing his sides gently before carefully rolling it down, freeing Squall’s trapped erection. 

Biting his lips, Squall watched as Seifer pulled his shift up, bunching it up and exposing his cock, his stupid traitorous cock, which hardened even more in the cool air. 

With a surprising gentleness, Seifer ran a single finger up and down Squall’s cock, tracing the thick vein and swirling around the head before going back down again to his balls and to his perineum. 

Squall trembled at the faint stimulation, gritting his teeth as he tried not to moan. When Seifer made another circuitous route up to the tip of his cock, finger touching the slit and actually spreading it open slightly this time, Squall finally wrenched away, trembling. 

“Enough!” He snarled. “I am not some fucking woman!”

Squall twisted away as Seifer grabbed his hips again, pushing against Seifer as he sought to pull him flush against him. He felt a rip as his thin shift actually tore badly and Squall let out a loud gasp. He saw red. Seifer growled again but Squall didn’t care, he clawed at Seifer’s chest,” Fuck you, that was actually quite expensive, you asshole.”

Squall slammed his hips against Seifer and ground down against Seifer’s renewed erection, hearing a hiss as he grabbed both their cocks and rubbed them both together in a practiced and much faster rhythm. 

He muttered “Doing it wrong, you should –“ he punctuated each word with a violent thrust.  


“- do –“”-it like-“ “-this-“ 

Seifer groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure.

“Stop,” He gasped. “Stop,”

“What?” Squall couldn’t help himself asking incredulously, pausing.

“I want to fuck you on the bed.” Seifer panted. 

Squall wanted to groan impatiently but Seifer had already gotten to his feet, having dragged Squall reluctantly up.

Squall would have made it to the bed except that he instantly tripped on the strewn clothes on the floor and brought Seifer down with him. Seifer immediately latched onto Squall’s sensitive neck, biting and sucking a trail down his collarbone. Squall writhed against him, body arching up in pleasure, trying to find the position with the most skin on skin contact as much as possible. Each time their cocks dragged against each other, Squall felt a growing ache just mount in his belly to touch, lick, rub and - oh god just there.

Then Seifer managed to find his way down to Squall’s nipples and actually bit down hard and Squall screamed and grabbed Seifer and dragged his nails down his back equally hard till Seifer let go with a muttered curse. 

And then both Seifer’s hands reached behind to Squall’s ass, finally, kneading it and spreading it open. Squall tried to twist and flip himself over in order to give Seifer better access but Seifer held him down by the hips.

Squall wriggled at the probing finger, protesting wordlessly when Seifer simply circled his opening and then stilled.

Stilled.

“Fuck, what now?” Squall complained immediately, annoyed.

“Shit, I can’t do it.” Seifer said.

“What?!” Squall actually sat up in surprise, bumping his head hard against Seifer’s chin. 

Squall glared at Seifer, dangerously close to snarling in frustration. Seifer did not back away but simply stared at him, eyes wide and chest heaving. He swallowed audibly and said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Hyne, save him from fucking virgins.

Squall scooted back slightly away from Seifer. “I fucking prepared myself earlier tonight.” He spat, voice husky. “But if you want a show –“

He thrust two fingers in his mouth, coating them as much as he could with his saliva. He brought them immediately to his hole, pressing them in. He stabbed roughly, scissoring them as he started pumping them in an unsatisfactory rhythm. He spread his open legs wider and brought his other hand up, cupping his sac and sliding up to the base of his erection. 

“I can do this,” Squall panted, letting out a harsh groan as he stroked himself. ”- without you.”

“Fuck,” said Seifer.

Squall looked up and immediately flushed. He just realised how he must have looked to Seifer, wanton and needy. Spread open, fingering himself like some whore with his briefs still hanging around his knees. He had indeed forgotten the role he was playing. 

“Don’t stop,” said Seifer, his voice hoarse sounding when Squall slowed. 

Squall wet his lips. He might as well continue with his show. He arched his back, this time deliberately drawing out his strokes, teasing himself slowly and raised his eyes. Staring directly, hungrily, right back at Seifer. 

Slowly, almost languidly, he reached out with a stocking covered foot. Dragging his toes up Seifer’s thighs, reaching Seifer’s impressive erection. And pressed down.

Seifer’s reaction was electric.

Somehow, in the time Squall managed to draw breath, Seifer had scooped him up and tossed him face first onto the bed. This suited Squall just fine as it seemed better, more impersonal somehow, than doing it face to face.

“Condoms.” Squall managed to gasp out. Thankful he had managed to even be able to think at all. He wriggled against the smooth sheets, rubbing his reddened erection against a soft pillow. He watched with lowered lashes as Seifer scrabbled in his bedside drawer, muttering softly to himself all the way when he scattered multicoloured packets all over the floor.

Squall tried not to laugh when he heard a ripping sound and a profound curse. Seifer had torn open a condom packet and then ripped the condom as well in his haste. He let out a loud moan instead, kicking off his briefs and making a show of pulling off his shift, knowing that Seifer was literally drooling at the sight of him, naked and ass bared. 

He pressed himself up against the head board, before reaching down, once again spreading his ass open so that Seifer would actually see his anus, waiting eagerly. Breathlessly.

“Come here,” growled Seifer, grabbing him by the leg and dragging him downwards. Squall fought him immediately, trying to regain his position. He was actually looking forward to a good pounding, damn it.

Except that with one smooth motion, Seifer actually managed to flip him over and pin his hips down. He had forgotten how strong Seifer was again. Squall kicked petulantly against his chest. Seifer immediately reached up, hooking them up behind his shoulders.

“Fuck,” Seifer said, sounding breathless. “You even have a fucking sexy look when you growl at me like that.”

Squall didn’t care about how he looked like now however. The lubed, cool tip of Seifer’s cock was pressed right against his hole. 

“Do it now.” He ordered.

So Seifer did.

They both groaned in unison as Seifer entered him. Squall relished the painful burn at the rough entry. He was indeed, still too tight and Seifer too big, but Squall didn’t care. He squirmed, forcing his body to relax and accept the intrusion, while Seifer slowly pushed in inch by inch. His world was narrowed down into pinpoint pain and slide of Seifer’s cock, inside him. He panted when Seifer finally stilled, fully seated. Sheathed within him.

Squall looked up at Seifer when a gentle hand ran across his forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Seifer’s eyes were liquid soft and so filled with concern, Squall flushed.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and Squall nodded not trusting himself to speak.

Then Seifer shuddered, and Squall noticed the faint muscle tremors in his legs.

“I can’t –“ Seifer groaned, “I have to move –“

Squall raised his hands and curled it around Seifer’s shoulders, implicit in his permission.

But Seifer then dipped his head, trailing gentle kisses and soft nibbles down Squall’s neck to his collarbone, burning a trail of heated pleasure and stubble burn. Squall gasped at each kiss, breathless at the tenderness he felt. 

And then Seifer finally moved. 

Sex, to Squall was about awkward angles and poor, faltering, excuses of people only interested in their own selfish desires to simply get off or involved in their own pleasure. It was an endless cycle of using, and simply being used.

When Seifer moved, Squall couldn’t contain each moan that escaped from his lips at each thrust. So thick. So full. Seifer was consuming him so utterly every single atom of flesh in his body felt like it was getting rearranged. Squall groaned as he was just filled with the primal need to just let himself be taken. Seifer knew how to move. To roll his hips in a way that made Squall tighten, his back arched in pleasure. 

There was no space to even think now because Seifer knew about how to build carnal pleasure. With each indulgent stroke, each slowly increasing rhythmic thrust, Seifer was driving Squall crazy with lust. Until he felt that each time Seifer went all the way in, he imagined he could feel Seifer’s cock in the back of this throat.

Squall’s ignored erection slapped against Seifer’s stomach each time he slammed down into him. Squall reached for it, stroking in counterpoint to Seifer’s thrusts. He was close, so close.

Seifer slapped his hands away from his cock, hands encircling Squall’s wrists and pinning his arms back to the bed.

Squall snarled immediately in anger. “Fuck you,” he seethed, writhing and struggling to free himself. He was trapped in position, forced to endure torturous pleasure impaled by Seifer’s cock. Delivered only by Seifer’s cock.

“At last you’re looking at me.” Seifer smirked at him. Squall held his glare, staring at Seifer’s smug expression for a moment, feeling every inch of the cock slamming into him with each violent thrust. Feeling his lids droop, body quivering and shuddering with pleasure each time Seifer went inside him.

Then Squall threw his head back, twisting his hips, knowing that if he angled himself just there, till yes, fuck yes, each thrust Seifer made was directly against his prostate. He ignored Seifer’s muttered curse again because he knew that every time Seifer went all the way in, he tightened impossibly in reaction.

Squall looked up through slitted eyes, because every time he closed his eyes he saw fucking stars. Seifer had thrown his head back too, mouth open, hips now thrusting erratically. He looked lost in pleasure. 

Squall was lost too. 

Then Seifer bent and kissed him. 

And Squall fucking came.

**Author's Note:**

> I have other chapters but I've stalled.  
> hopefully finally posting will kick me into writing more.


End file.
